


Heatseeker

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Another Chance at the Brass Ring, or Season 9 Fan Fiction [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Normal Life, Alternate Season/Series 09, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Transformation, Being a Prophet Sucks, Bottom of the Barrel, Case Fic, Curses, Deities, Destiel - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Sam Winchester/Original Female Character, F/M, Flesh to Stone, Friendly Freaks, Gen, Het, Human Sacrifice, Human Sacrifice for Profit, Innuendo, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Monster mash, Murder Most Foul, New York City, Nuke on the Loose, Samodge, Slash, The Fifth Sun, Tricksters, Unfortunate Realizations, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:04:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters investigate a New York subway car full of people turned into stone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Serpent Clean

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** : Through episode 08x20 Pac-Man Fever

**New York City, New York**. Robert Miles Windham pushed his way towards the subway sign, working against a throng of people heading in the opposite direction. It was kind of poetic, given the day he had, that he would wind it down by plowing his way against the grain just to get to the damn subway. He never thought he'd end up identifying with Sisyphus, constantly rolling that damn rock up the hill, just to have it trundle back down.

Robert elbowed the annoying teenager who dragged his feet right over the step of the subway car, dawdling while he flipped through the music on his iPod. Like he couldn't step _inside_ the damn car and out of the way before doing that?

The kid didn't hardly responded to the intruding elbow, but he did shuffle forward enough to make room. This allowed a surly woman to push by Robert and the people entering the car behind him. Clearly, the teenager had blocked the way before all the passengers could exit the car. 

Robert moved over to the farthest area from the door and realized that he'd have to stand for the ride to Brooklyn. He grabbed hold of a bar and leaned in, taking a deep breath. 

It had been a long day, and he wasn't too far from home.

He wasn't aware of the time passing, but it occurred to him that his heartbeats were slowing down. His last hazy recollection was that burgers would make a lovely dinner.

When the doors opened for the next stop, a young woman entered the car. She backed out, forcing those behind her away from the car.

"Whatcher problem?" a man said. 

"Is this some kind of weird performance art?" she asked. 

The man almost knocked her out of his way, but he looked inside first. Robert Miles Windham, and the forty-three other passengers, were perfect, stone statues - 

No, they couldn't be statues, because some of them were still blinking.

 

 **Lebanon, Kansas**. Kevin Tran was awake.

He imagined that Sam was curled up with Dodge, holding her as she slept off the last few days. Kevin knew how difficult being kidnapped could be, so he couldn't really blame either of them.

And Dean. Dean and Castiel were probably snuggled up together, naked. Maybe it was spillover teenage hormones building up in Kevin, but he was a little jealous of both Winchesters. They had a real home to retreat to, whether or not they admitted it. 

So while the two Winchesters, the banes of the Supernatural world, slumbered peacefully with their significant others, Kevin Tran was awake. 

He occasionally drifted off, but his mind kept waking him up, urging him to continue translating the tablet. He wanted to finish it, but it was rich and complex. And, as with the Demon and Angel Tablets, he sensed that he was missing something key – a previous chapter, so to speak, that laid the foundation for his understanding. 

Then there were the nightmares. They were probably prophetic dreams, but since he was transcribing the Children of Eve Tablet, they were filled with images of monsters, bitterness, and hunger. His heart raced just by thinking about it.

 

"Your phone is ringing," Castiel whispered into Dean's ear.

Dean took a moment to stretch out, feeling the warm of Cas's body along his spine. He tried to explain pillow talk to the angel, but he didn't really seem to grasp the idea. 

"Dean," Cas said again, his voice low and alluring, "your phone is ringing."

"Cas, it's too early."

"It keeps ringing. Would you like me to answer it for you?"

Dean rolled over and pulled Cas into a long, languid kiss. Cas rubbed his palms up Dean's stomach and chest, eventually cupping his cheek and drawing him into another kiss.

"You need to brush your teeth," Cas said after he pulled away. "And answer your phone."

Dean hated reality sometimes.

He sat up and fumbled for the phone, groggy and annoyed. Cas was right; his phone had been ringing for a while. He had sixteen missed calls, all from the same number. 

"Huh," Dean said to himself. "Hello?"

"Dean?" a woman asked.

"Yeah, who's this?"

"It's Portia," she replied.

Dean thought hard about that name, but nothing came to mind. "Portia? Sorry, I don't – "

"We've met before. I'm James Frampton's familiar."

"Ah," he replied, remembering the part-Doberman, part-woman familiar that came to them for help. "Right."

"I wouldn't call if it wasn't important," she said. 

"Let me guess, James is in trouble?" Dean asked.

"No," Portia replied. "We just finished a case. But, before we left, I – uh, we saw something weird."

"Okay, well, witches seeing weird things, not big news, right?" Dean said, annoyed this was the reason he wasn't continuing his good morning sex with Castiel.

"I'm calling you because this is above James's pay grade, and people are dying, Dean, so you can drop the snarkie crap," she snapped. 

"I'm listening."

"Last night, a subway car full of life-sized statues was reported in New York City. The police thought it was a prank at first, till the responding officers and medics reported that all the statues had heartbeats and vitals."

"That's not good," Dean said. "Someone's bringing statues to life?"

"All the passengers are dead now, so it's more like killing people by petrifying them into stone," Portia replied. "That takes an incredible amount of power, and there weren't any hex markings anywhere in that car to focus the power. Whatever did this – it's not a witch or a coven."

"New York City, huh?" Dean said. "I guess it was only a matter of time before we ended up there. We can get there by tomorrow and meet you - "

"We're not in New York anymore," Portia replied. "We have another job."

"So James is just dropping this on Sam and me?"

"James is convinced this is a practical joke, he wouldn't even check it out."

"So you couldn't convince your boyfriend slash witch to do this, so you think Sam and I will drop everything – "

She cut him off, "I think you and your brother are aware that a war is being waged between two factions."

Dean bit his lip. "What do you know?"

"I know James and I have had more cases in the past three weeks than we usually get for three months. And we've had more than a few near misses. Whatever is happening, Dean, it's big. And whatever's in New York, it's big. Put two and two together."

"You think what's going down there is part of the war?" Dean asked.

"You said it," Portia replied. "New York is the last place you want this happening, Dean. If a full-on battle breaks out here, the collateral could tally to the millions."

"Then why aren't you and James doing anything about it?" Dean demanded. 

Portia hung up. 

"Damn it!" 

He felt arms wrap around him from behind, and Cas put his head on Dean's shoulder, pulling him into an awkward but comfortable sitting spoon position.

"Bad news?" Cas asked. 

"Yeah, like always."

Cas kissed Dean's neck as his hands wandered down to Dean's hips. He stroked Dean's tense back and then his outer thighs. The angel's hands slipped ever so slightly to his inner thighs, then slowly up. Dean sighed. 

"Cas, we have to go – " Dean started.

"Sam's still asleep," Cas replied. "I think you should brush your teeth and let him sleep in."

And who was Dean to argue with an angel on that?


	2. Sound the Siren

Sam walked straight by Kevin in the war room. He tiptoed into the kitchen as to not wake him. Dodge soon joined him. 

She looked completely different – awake and happy.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning," Sam replied. 

She reached up to kiss him gently. Dodge was tall for a woman, but she was still a good six inches shorter than Sam. 

"You look – fantastic," Sam said, pulling her into his body.

"I feel fantastic," she replied.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm up, actually," she said. She pulled away gently. 

He was sorry to let her go, but she soon picked up a cup for some water. Hydration was more than an acceptable reason to move away, so Sam's morning-after bliss wasn't curbed. 

"What's that?" he asked.

"I got an appointment with a doctor in Topeka," she replied. "A neurologist."

"Dodge, if Therion did something to you, you know a doctor can't help."

Dodge immediately felt guilty. She meant to tell Sam that Therion's spell worked - that she no longer had visions – days ago. 

"I – " she began. "I should've said something, once we were alone, but – "

"Is something wrong?" Sam asked. The genuine concern on his face made her guilt multiply.

"I think Therion succeeded," Dodge said. "I haven't had a vision or a dream or an inkling since we left that cave."

Sam's brow rippled. "Maybe it's just supernatural stress?"

Dodge laughed as she said, "What? Like I strained my third eye?"

He shrugged, "Something like that."

"The FBI neurologist that saw me back in D.C. said I had abnormal brainwaves or something like that," she said. 

"When you had a vision, you mean?" 

"No, all the time," she said. "He couldn't explain it except that he thought it was what was ultimately causing my 'seizures' somehow."

Sam turned away. He had a feeling that he knew where this conversation was going. She wouldn't go to a doctor, not for this, unless she planned to return to the FBI. Back in Washington, D.C.

"Sam, if this doctor gives me a clean bill of health, I can get my life back," she said. "I can go back to work. I can start being a real resource for you again."

He turned back to her. "You're a resource for us now."

"I know, but – " she couldn't think of what to say next. "My job, it means a lot to me, Sam. I worked hard to get there because I wanted to be there. Losing it was okay only because I thought it was temporary."

"Apparently, it was," Sam said bitterly. He hadn't meant for it to come out like that, but it was all he could to do to keep calm.

"It's not like I'm disappearing," she said. 

"No, you're just moving back to the east coast," Sam replied. "And I'm guessing I can't go out to visit you, since Dean and I are dead, or wanted, or both – "

"Sam, don't – "

"It's okay," he cut her off. "I told you we'd figure out how to get your life back, and now, maybe, it's figured itself out."

Dodge faltered in her conviction, and Sam changed his tone. "I mean it, I'm happy that you're feeling better. And that you might get your job back."

"If the doctor clears me," she said. 

"Right," Sam added. "When's your appointment?"

"In five hours," she said. "I have to head out now, actually."

Putting on his best happy-for-you face, Sam smiled and said, "Okay, will you call me after? Let me know?" 

"Yeah, I will," she said. She reached up for another kiss. This one was gentler than the last, sweeter and calmer. She smiled weakly before she let him go, again, and walked away.

Sam felt sick to his stomach. His innards sank as he heard the clank of the bunker door shutting behind her. He sucked down air, hard, to prevent his eyes from watering. 

'Damn it,' was all he could think to himself.

 

"Kev?" Dean said to the unconscious Prophet.

"It's not like I have class," Kevin replied, barely moving. 

"No, but you do have a pillow. And stuff. In your room," Dean said. "So..." 

Castiel appeared, his hair more messy than usual. Dean smiled at his work. 

"Is Kevin okay?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "You think you can zap him to his bed?"

Sam came out of the kitchen right as Cas moved Kevin back to his room, and Dean noticed his sickly expression right away.

"Woah, you okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, just – uh, stomach ache," Sam lied quickly. "What's up with Kevin?"

"Being a Prophet can be very difficult," Cas observed. "His circadian rhythms have been offset."

"That sounds bad," Dean said. 

"The Children of Eve Tablet has upset him," Cas continued.

"Right, cranky prophets," Sam said as he headed out of the war room. 

"Sammy, we got a case."

"What?"

"New York City, big bad mojo. People turned to stone. Pack a bag."

Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean added, "You can bring your girlfriend with us."

Sam didn't reply.

 

 **New York City, New York**. Shelly Hernandes was running late. Again. This was it. She would walk through the door, and her boss would call her into his office before the day began. Then he would fire her. 

Anxiety didn't look good on her. Her hands were shaking so much that she fumbled with her security pass. 

"Hernandes?" the guard asked as she passed through the door.

"Yeah, uh – Frank, right?" she said.

"Jerry," he corrected. "Frank's the night guy."

"Oh, sorry, Jerry."

Jerry smiled. "No worries. But I was told to warn anyone on the first floor that they have some big-time online meeting starting... five minutes ago, by my watch. So go quietly, okay? Otherwise it'll be my ass."

She smiled. "Thanks, Jerry."

Shelly trod lightly. Maybe she wouldn't be fired today after all –

She slowly opened the main door to the conference room, prepared to be quieter than a shadow, but everyone on the first floor heard her shriek at the sight in front of her.

A roar followed her cry, and Jerry responded. He arrived just in time to witness a large cat – a panther, maybe – as it dragged Shelly into the room. The door slammed shut behind her. As soon as the locked kicked into place, he couldn't hear anything else, but he saw blood streak past the small window in the door. 

"Shelly!" he yelled, but there was no response.

 

Castiel sat in the back seat of the Impala, curiously witnessing two brothers lie their asses off.

"So, you gonna tell me what's up with you or what?" Dean asked. 

"I'm fine. My stomach was bothering me – "

"Cas already told me your molecules were fine," Dean said. "Or whatever."

Sam glared at the angel, as if it were some violation of privacy. Normally Cas would correct Dean as to the exact words he said, but he elected to remain quiet this time. The Impala filled with vividly uncomfortable silence.

"So, Sam. What's new in your life?" Dean asked.

Sam ignored him, fiddling with some new technology Cas didn't recognize. 

"Another one in New York City," Sam said. "A room full of investment bankers were mauled to death and eaten by jaguars."

"Jaguars?" Dean repeated. "Uh - is it possible that's just a murder?"

"Not when the security feed shows the jaguars appearing in an instant."

"Subway car full of statues and a bank full of jaguar chow," Dean said. "So, what're we thinking? Transformation curses? Big time hex craft? A deity running amuck?"

"I thought for sure it was a basilisk," Sam said. "With the turning people to stone."

"I thought that was a myth, the giant poison snake thing," Dean replied. 

"No, it's a lizard. Sort of."

"You're even mopey when you're doing research. This is about Dodge. Isn't it?"

"We've got bigger fish to fry, Dean," Sam said. 

"Sam, your pouting isn't subtle, just spill."

"Dodge is at the doctor today."

"She's pregnant, isn't she?" Dean asked quickly. 

"What? No!"

"Nah, you'd probably be happy in that case."

"She's at the neurologist," Sam corrected himself. "She thinks she might be cleared for duty again."

"Which means, she won't be at the bunker anymore," Dean cottoned on.

"Yeah."

"You know what that means?" Dean asked.

Sam didn't say anything, so Dean continued, "We should set up a safe house in the D.C. area, since you'll probably be visiting her – "

"No, I won't," Sam cut him off. "Can we drop it and focus on the jaguars?"


	3. Charging up the Sky

New York City was a bitch. More correctly, New York City was a bitch for people who must avoid cameras and have no money. Manhattan was far too expensive, and Dean refused to drive his car into the city, so they parked in Jersey and resorted to public transport.

That's why Dean, Sam, and Castiel were on a train in their suits. Cas retained his trench coat over everything else because nothing said 'inconspicuous' in New York like a man in a long, beige coat in June.

"I feel naked without my car," Dean said again.

"Dude, you've said that already. Get over it," Sam replied.

"Is that computer-thing giving you any new news?" Dean asked.

"It's a tablet, Dean. And it says that the dozen jaguars involved in mauling the bankers all disappeared."

"As in someone from animal rights freed them? Or – "

"No, as in _disappeared_ disappeared," Sam cut him off. "They'd been rounded up by animal control and caged, and then poof! Gone."

"Awesome."

"I don't know of anything that converts living bodies to stone and materializes animals," Castiel said. 

"Yeah, well, something does," Dean replied. "And we need to find it soon. There were forty-four people on that subway car. Add that to the thirty-one killed in the jaguar mauling," Sam said. "That's a damn high body count."

 

"Agent Stills," said Dean with badge-in-hand. "This is my partner, Agent Smith."

Cas showed his badge to the NYPD officer. 

"I'm Officer Hobbes. I thought your partner was at the station looking through security footage?"

"Our other partner is," Cas answered. "Agent Nielson."

"Didn't know you guys came in trios," Hobbes replied. "Well, here it is. Separated from the subway and contained. Forensics is done here, so it's all yours. I'll – wait outside."

"Thanks," Dean said as they nipped into the subway car.

All the statues remained in the car like some kind of candid photo except that it was laid out in 3D stone. 

"This is – unnerving," Cas remarked. 

"Yeah, by the look on Hobbes's face, I can tell he wouldn't set a foot in here if you paid him," Dean replied. "You got anything?"

Cas shook his head. Dean's EMF reader gave him nothing. They swept the car quickly for hex bags, coins, and markings.

"This is fruitless," Cas said. "Everything on these individuals has been petrified along with their bodies," Cas pointed out. "Any one of them could have had a hex artifact in a pocket or sewn into a shoe, and we'd never find it."

"Awesome," Dean said bitterly. "So you got nothing?"

"Just a remnant," the angel said. "A memory of some kind of power. It set in slowly."

"It couldn't have."

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Cas, look at these people. They're sitting and standing like they're on the subway."

"They were on the subway at the time," Cas replied, confused.

Dean reminded himself that Cas was not Sam, and sometimes the angel needed a bit more explanation to make sense of things. So he said, "None of them struggled or even looked panicked, Cas. If I was turning to stone, I would panic."

The angel considered this, perplexed by its meaning. 

"Is the officer still watching us?" Cas asked. 

"Yeah, why?" 

"Distract him."

"Why?"

"Dean, just do it."

"Fine."

Dean walked out of the car and said, "Hobbes, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Can I, uh, ask you a few questions?" Dean said as he walked to the officer's opposite side, forcing him to turn his back on Castiel.

"Well, sure, but I wasn't – "

"What's the standing theory?" Dean asked.

"Besides this is some weird prank?" Hobbes asked. He continued in barely a whisper, "Well, uh, some kind of chemical weapon. Like you'd see on _Fringe_ or the _X-Files_ , you know?"

"A chemical weapon that turns people into stone?"

"Figured that's why you guys were down here," Hobbes said. "You know, possible terrorist implications. I know I won't be riding the subway again anytime soon."

"Do we know who these people are?" Dean asked. "In the car?"

"Uh, yeah, we identified most of them. Guys down at the precinct were looking into the last few," Hobbes replied. "Nobody on our radar. Just – people. You know? That's it." 

Cas popped out of the car. 

"Right," Dean said. "Thanks, Officer Hobbes."

 

After inspecting the banker massacre, which yielded nothing more than frustration, Dean and Cas left the city. It took them way too damn long to get to the motel in Jersey, but Dean refused to teleport. 

Sam had made it back before them, and at Castiel's request, he acquired dinner and had it ready for them when they arrived just past seven o'clock.

"Sammy, you're a genius!" Dean declared as he grabbed a burger.

"So, I watched several tapes, and there's something you should see."

Dean continued to eat as Sam played a video on his laptop. It was just a basic platform camera with a crappy angle, but Sam seemed happy.

"Watch that guy," Sam pointed him out. When the movie showed a woman bumping into the man, he paused it. "See her?"

"Please tell me she's a witch or something," Dean said. 

"No, her name is Gillian Dickinson. She's also a statue. Discovered in her home."

"So – whatever mojo was used on these people, it hit her, too?" Dean asked.

Cas produced a number of chipped pieces of stone.

"Is that – is that what you were doing when I distracted Officer Conspiracy Theory?" Dean asked.

The angel nodded. "Pieces of clothing, artifacts, and a piece of one person's ear."

"You did this why?" Sam asked.

"If the subway car was cursed, the flesh would transform back to flesh outside of it," Cas replied as if it were obvious. "Beyond that, there are supernatural traces on this."

"Great. Who did it?" Dean asked.

"I've no idea. Not angels, but maybe a powerful deity."

"Okay, so which powerful deity turns people to stone and materializes jaguars?" Dean asked. 

No one had any answers that night.

 

"I hate this place," Sam said to himself as yet another person crashed into him on the sidewalk. 

It's not like Sam was small and could be easily missed, yet every single person who bumped into him glared at him, as if his size made him unfit for the city. 

On top of that, he felt stuck. It was one thing to be trapped with Cas and Dean on a road trip. It was another thing to be wedged in with the two of them in the same motel room. Dean said he hated chick flick moments, but he indulged openly in his relationship Castiel. It was all little things, and Sam wanted to be happy for them. But with Dodge gone – and the fact that she hadn't called him since she left for her doctor's appointment four days ago – he couldn't stand it. 

So he took the earliest train in to work on this case, leaving a note behind. Dean would be pissed, but he didn't care.

No sooner did he sit down with his coffee and croissant than his phone rang. 

"Agent Nielson," Sam answered. 

"This is Detective Shetty," said a voice on the other end. 

"Kumar?" Sam said, remembering the man who helped him with the video footage the day before.

"Yeah, uh, you said to call you if anything strange came up, even if it didn't seem related."

"Something happened?"

"Uh, we were just called down to a legal firm in Manhattan," Shetty said. "Twenty legal aids, lawyers, and paralegals were all – uh, well – "

"What?"

"According to the client who called it in? They were all turned into spider monkeys."

"Spider monkeys?"

"No one's injured or dead, obviously," Shetty continued. "And it's likely just a prank, but - "

"Give me an address," Sam said. "I'll call my partners."


	4. No Life Preserver

Harun Navarro's day took a big upswing after he bumped into some big oaf and nearly dropped his coffee. He made every subway switch he needed without delay, and he didn't hit a single high-traffic corner on his way. 

He was in an excellent mood when he stepped into the office and plunked behind his desk. Harun liked to get in before everyone else to prepare for the day. 

As people filtered in, Susan popped her head in to remind him about the meeting at ten. 

"Don't be late," was all she said.

He rolled his eyes after she left. Huran didn't realize how much he hated engineers until he became one himself. But he loved his job, so he tolerated his peers no matter how annoying they became.

He was in high spirits when he entered the engineering department's lobby for their ridiculous weekly meetings. He sat calmly, occasionally ruffling his feathers at his co-workers startlingly annoying comments. 

He didn't realize that, at some point, his feathers were no longer metaphorical.

 

Sam returned from the bathroom to find Dean alone at the table. 

"Where's Cas?" 

"I'll tell you about Cas, if you'll tell me about Dodge," Dean said. 

Sam hadn't noticed anything wrong with them, but maybe they had a fight this morning when he was out for coffee.

"Dodge basically told me that I don't know her because she's been sick for all the time she was at the bunker, which is basically the duration of our relationship," he confessed.

"That's probably true. So what?" Dean asked.

"She's not convinced we'd be together if she was, well, herself. At her job," Sam said. "She told me that weeks ago. And I talked to her about it, and it seemed okay. But she told me she was going to the doctor to be cleared for duty again, and that she'd call – "

"And she hasn't," Dean filled in.

"Pretty much."

"And you haven't called her," his older brother pointed out sagely. 

"No."

"You should."

"What?" 

"She's the one being poked by needles with wires coming out of her head," Dean said. "Or whatever a neurologist does. Maybe she just forgot to call."

"Dean – "

"Sammy, don't be a pansy-ass, okay? You like her, so don't mope when she pulls away a little bit. Tell her the truth and if she still pulls away, it's her loss."

"Seriously, Dean? You've never taken that advice. Ever."

"Shut up," Dean said.   
"So where's Cas?" Sam asked. "You two okay?"

Dean smiled. "We're fine. I just got a call about another sighting, so he said we should eat while he checks it out."

"Wait, you made it sound like you two had a fight – "

"I did," Dean confirmed. "So you'd grow a pair or at least stop pouting."

"You're a dick!"

"You're missing the bigger problem," Dean said. "That there's another one."

"More spider monkeys?"

"Nope, quetzal birds," Dean said. 

"Quetzal birds?" Sam repeated.

"Aha! You know something! I can see it in your eyes!"

"It doesn't explain the stone," Sam said. 

"But it explains the jaguars, the monkeys, and the birds?" Dean said. "Because, that's good enough for me."

"The Five Suns," Sam said idly. 

"You and Cas both do that, and it pisses me off," Dean said. "Are all nerds cryptic?"

"It's a Mesoamerican myth," Sam explained, "about the creation of the world. That it had been created four times before and destroyed. We're living in the Fifth Sun."

"And that explains what?"

"The people in the First Sun died because they were eaten by jaguars. The Second Sun, monkeys," Sam said.

"Third Sun people turned into birds?" Dean asked. "Who thinks of this crap?"

"The Fourth Sun... I think people turned into fish and dogs," he said. "But like I said that doesn't explain the subway full of stone people."

"How does the Fifth Sun end?" Dean asked.

"Earthquakes," Sam replied. 

"Okay, so – Mesoamerican douchebag," Dean said. "I know of one I've wanted to donkey punch for months now."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Tezcatlipoca!" Dean said. "The jackass killing people out in Colorado."

"Oh – him. He did say he'd see us again," Sam admitted. "So, what're we waiting for? Let's go talk to Cas – "

"Sam, we should eat first."

 

Castiel was on board with the Tezcatlipoca idea as soon as Sam suggested it.

"The only question that remains is – why is he re-enacting the Five Suns?"

"Because he's a douchebag," Dean replied. "How do we kill him?"

"The Colt," Sam said. "He told me himself, the Colt could kill him."

"But we still need to find him," the angel pointed out. 

"Maybe the places he's hitting aren't random," Dean suggested. "You know, he's making a shape or something."

Sam's eyes lit up. "Like a quincunx."

The younger Winchester scrambled for a map of Manhattan, where all the attacks had taken place. He marked out the locations, including the approximate subway location. 

"Can you predict where the next point will be?" Cas asked. 

"That's kinda the point, Cas," Sam remarked. 

Sam grabbed the string out of his pocket that he used for drawing perfect circles for Devil's Traps and the like. It was slightly too long for the job, but eventually he marked two spots on the map. 

"What's that?" Dean asked pointing to the second marker. 

"Well, Mesoamerica favored quincunx over pentagram," Sam said. "I mean, I don't remember a single instance of – "

"Pentagram is for protecting, isn't it?" Dean asked. "That quincunx thing sounded right."

"But the equidistant points line up in a pentagram," Castiel said. 

"I doubt some douchebag is turning people into birds or feeding them to jaguars to protect the city," Dean said. 

"We need to split up and check them out," Sam said.

"Great, now all we need to do is clone the Colt," Dean said. 

"Sam can take the gun," Cas said. "You and I can check out the quincunx point. Sam will take the pentagram point."

"You think you can smite Tezcatlipoca? Because that guy is a real ass hat, Cas. Worse than Gabe ever was."

"If not, then I can teleport to Sam," Cas replied. "It's the only way to be certain we stop him."

"I still don't understand the stone," Sam said. "That's not part of the Five Suns."

"Well, maybe he was just revving up to the jaguars and the birds," Dean said. 

"Do you listen to yourself?" Sam asked.

 

The first place he marked was an older building that was renovated into a restaurant. Sam didn't like what he saw when he approached. Unlike the other targets, this building was public with people coming and going regularly. It didn't look promising, but he needed to inspect it.

 

Castiel led Dean into the post office with the air of determination marking his face. 

"Cas, chill out, you're attracting too much attention," Dean said. 

It was true. People were staring at them. Fully aware it may raise questions as to the validity of their FBI cover, Dean grabbed Cas and pulled him into a kiss. New Yorkers might stare at a man in a trench coat with a resolute look on his face, but a little PDA between two men was nothing new.

 

Sam convinced the manager to let him inspect the kitchen, but there was nothing remarkable about it. He did a sweep over the main dining area and found the same. There were no enclosed spaces. This place didn't match the MO at all. 

That meant Castiel and Dean were at the right location, but they didn't have the Colt. 

Sam rushed out the door.

 

Cas didn't mind Dean's sudden urge to kiss him. Something about intimacy in a public place made it exhilarating. He didn't want it to stop.

But something was very wrong. 

"Dean," Cas said. "Something's wrong."

"Thanks, Cas – "

"With Sam."

"What?"

"We need to go to him now - " Cas said. 

The stupid sigils on Sam's ribs meant Cas couldn't just blip to his side.

"Hold on, the GPS in his phone is on – " Dean said, fumbling for his own phone.

 

Sam Winchester's phone was in his mouth. 

He didn't really understand why. He remembered he took it out to dial Dean and warn him, but for some reason he couldn't. The more he thought about it, the less he cared.

Dean and Cas appeared out of a nearby alleyway. Sam was so excited to see them that he dropped his phone and barked. 

"Sammy?" Dean said. "NO – hell no!"

Sam barked in return.

"A golden retriever," Castiel said. "Are you sure it's Sam?"

Dean looked into the dog's big, hazel eyes. The damn thing even had his brother's deep, soulful expression, packed and ready to go. And the ugly red tie Sam had on at lunch was around its neck. 

"Sam?" Dean said. 

Sam barked. Obviously it was him. How did his brother not know?


	5. Out on the Street

"Can't you heal him?" Dean demanded from Cas. 

"He's not injured, Dean! He's a dog!" Cas said defensively. 

"No, he's a human and just looks like a dog!"

"I can't heal this. We need to find Tezcatlipoca and have him reverse it."

Dean paced the length of the alley, and Sam followed with his tail high in the air, wagging. 

"Sammy, stop that. This is – weird enough."

Sam sat down and lowered his nose. 

"You're making him sad," Cas scolded. 

"How do we find this guy, Cas?"

"He'll be at the epicenter of activity."

"What're we waiting for?" Dean asked. "Let's go!"

Cas hesitated. He handed Dean the Colt salvaged from Sam's clothing, which failed to stay on him in his current golden retriever form. 

"Dean, there's something that's bothering me – "

"You mean besides the fact that my brother is on all fours and has even more hair?" 

"The pentagram," Cas said. "It's a symbol of protection."

"So what? You can protect something evil."

"I dislike tricksters, and Tezcatlipoca is worse for – "

"Then we kill him. Done and done. Do you know where he is?"

"Yes, he's near the post office. In a vacant apartment. His position is roughly the center of the pentagram." 

"Let's go."

"Dean, I don't like this."

Sam barked. 

"Sam agrees with me. Two against one. Let's go."

 

Tezcatlipoca had better things to do. Still, he made a bet and lost it. He might be many things, but he wasn't one to lapse on his debts. The archangel Gabriel's payment was a simple request anyway, hardly even worth sweeting over. 

Then the Winchesters arrived... Those two reckless boys who tried to stop him back in Colorado. They certainly were fun, and they had a sidekick with them – an angel. Not as powerful as Gabriel, but an angel nonetheless. He certainly had a bone to pick with them. This was going to be fun.

The rustle of wings announced the arrival of said angel sidekick. The barking told him that his spell on the gangly brother had taken. 

"Now, now," Tezcatlipoca said to his new guests. "You shouldn't be so rude."

"Fuck you!" Dean said aiming the Colt at the deity's head.

Click! It jammed. 

"Your brother tried that on me last time," Tezcatlipoca said, "and if it could fire, it would kill me. Good thing it's having a hard time, huh?"

Dean cursed again. Tezcatlipoca snapped his fingers, and suddenly three large jaguars prowled the room, staring at Dean like he was the good cat food. Sam growled at the closest jaguar, staying close to his brother.

"Son of a bitch," he said.

"You know, you and your brother are getting lax," Tezcatlipoca said. "When was the last time either of you was even injured?"

"We get our asses handed to us all the time," Dean replied, realizing afterward that it wasn't a good way to frame it.

"You're both too busy enjoying domestic bliss to really invest yourselves in your jobs, otherwise you wouldn't have your heads so far up your asses."

"Right, we're just sitting on our hands while you turn people into stone or sic your jaguars on them," Dean countered.

"Did you know New York City, Manhattan specifically, has fault lines under it? You have any idea what an earthquake would do to this place?"

"So, what, you're preparing this place for an earthquake by killing innocent people? Turning them into dogs? I thought you were a trickster, not an idiot."

The air evaporated from his lungs, and it was only when he reached out for Castiel that he realized the angel was frozen in place, like a statue. Sam bounded to help his brother, but he, too, became frozen.

And Dean couldn't breathe. 

"You know, a few months ago, you and your brother were highly interesting. All the crap that was bubbling to the surface, all the evil in the world, and you two. You were most interesting, Dean – it is Dean, isn't it? Accepting what you saw – "

"That was a trick!"

"No, it wasn't. And neither is this. You see, I just prevented the supernatural forces of this little war from sinking this city into the ocean." 

He waved his hand and threw Dean into the far wall. Dean choked, but he was finally able to make his lungs work again. 

"And you repay me by trying to kill me. You know, if you had done your job better, none of this would be happening."

"Screw you!" Dean said. 

"You better listen to me, boy," Tezcatlipoca warned. "Normally I would pull the wool over your eyes and record everything for posterity. But right now your mess is putting me under duress."

"Sounds like you have it real rough," Dean said weakly.

"Damn right," he snapped back. "You know what happens when there's no more future to predict, Dean? Because I do. And it's not pretty."

"So what, you stop an earthquake? What's that gonna go – "

"You understand that seventy lives were exchanged for millions. I do hope you can do basic math."

"Fuck you!"

Tezcatlipoca lifted Dean from the ground, pinning him to the wall with one of his hands. Each finger was a sharp, blistering talon. 

"You are little more than a child, yet the world was entrusted to your care. So I will give you some guidance on the matter, if for no reason than it will provide me some amusement. Lucifer and Therion are collecting weapons. There is one weapon you and yours have left out in the open for easy picking, and they're both desperate enough to try to take it. The boy is more dangerous than either of them. Don't be foolish and expect nothing to happen."

And with those ominous words, darkness overtook Dean. The last sound he heard was the growling roars of the jaguars.

 

Dean woke up with one hell of a headache. 

"Cas? Sam?" he said, afraid of what he might find.

Sam was naked, except for his tie, and unconscious on the ground. Cas was still frozen.

The first thing he did was take Castiel's trench coat and cover Sam with it. That just seemed the right thing to do.

"Cas?" Dean said. "Please, Cas, tell me there's an unfreeze button or something – "

He studied the floor under the angel. There were no sigils or traps there, so he turned his chin up to inspect the ceiling. There were markings there, but – how would Tezcatlipoca know that Cas would teleport to that spot? 

Dean wanted to kick himself. The bastard could predict the damn future, of course he knew. Damn it!

Dean heaved Castiel up off the floor and dragged him over to Sam. As soon as Dean let him go, the angel collapsed next to his brother, panting.

"That was deeply unpleasant."

"You okay?" Dean asked. He knelt down and placed his hand in the small of Cas's back.

"Yes," Cas said. 

The angel reached out for Sam's – thankfully very human – hand and touched it. Sam's eyes opened.

"Why am I naked?" was all he asked. 

"I'll explain later. We need to zap outa here, Cas, 'cuz I don't wanna be jaguar chow."

 

Sam hesitated, staring at his phone. He learned no life lessons from his brief time as a dog, but he remembered Dean's advice. 

And Dean was right. Dodge was the one being poked and prodded by doctors. She was the one with her life on hold. The least Sam could do was make a little effort on his part, even if it did hurt his ego.

He dialed out.

"You've reached Dodge. Leave me a message." 

It was immediate. Her phone must be off.

"Hey, Dodge. It's me, Sam. You didn't call – I thought maybe you needed a little space or something. But I – uh. I miss you. And I want to know how you're doing. So, please call me back. When you get the chance. Love you, bye."

He hung up and immediately realized he just said "I love you" to someone for the first time over the phone. 

Sam was really losing his touch.

 

"You've both been very quiet," Castiel observed. "What's wrong?"

"That Tezcatlipoca ass hole said something to me," Dean said, sparing Sam. 

"What?" Cas asked sympathetically.

"That we've gone soft," Dean replied.

"Right, sure," Sam snapped. 

"He's right," Dean said.

Cas tilted his head in confusion. "You can't believe that."

"Can't I?" Dean asked. "Look at our recent score card, huh? Dodge was kidnapped by that creepy-crawly bitch Therion. There was a freaking witch massacre – or maybe a war – and not only did we not stop it, we don't know why the fuck any of it happened. Which is basically what happened with the weird zombie-ghosts mash up, and don't get me started on that Crocotta bitch we just let go – "

"Dean," Sam cut his brother off. "We can't win them all."

"This isn't about winning them all, Sammy. Our score card hasn't been this bad since the freaking apocalypse!" Dean commented. "And the worse thing is – half the time we don't even know what's going on!"

"So you believe him?" Castiel asked. "That he was casting a spell to save the city?"

"Wait, what?" Sam said. 

Dean nodded. "Sorry, you were making a call," he said to his brother. "He told me he was working mojo to prevent supernatural forces from dropping Manhattan into the ocean with an earthquake."

Sam was pissed that his brother hadn't said this before, but something dawned on him. "That explains the first incident – people turning into stone – and the pentagram. The Fifth Sun, this world, is supposed to be destroyed by Earthquakes."

"So he turns people to stone instead?" Dean asked.

"The pentagram must've, I dunno, protected the fault line," Sam said.

"That does beg one more question," Cas cut in. "Why it is you are human again, Sam. All the others in the restaurant were turned into fish."

Sam turned his head, reminding Dean of the soulful expression he had as a dog. "You mean, I was the only dog?"

"That I saw," Cas said.

"That bastard!"

"Late to the game, Sam."

"No, I mean – " Sam huffed. "I was outside the restaurant when that spell took. I had to be. I mean, I was calling you to warn you nothing weird was going on where I was."

"You think he sniped you with an extra spell?" Dean asked. "Jackass."

They rode in silence for a few more minutes.

"He said something else," Dean began. "About a weapon. Something that we – us three – left out in the open."

"What weapon?" Castiel asked. "Dodge?"

"He said something about a boy. The boy is dangerous, or something. But Therion on Lucifer are getting desperate enough to make a play for this weapon anyway."

Nothing but the sound of breathing filled the car. 

"Maybe he is right," Sam said. "We've spent so much time trying to hide Kevin, to hide Dodge, to keep Cas safe. And meanwhile people are building up armies. They've found a way to cloak themselves from us – and we've made it easy for them. We've been so conservative. We're not out looking for shit. We're waiting for things to happen then chasing after it."

"That's not entirely true," Cas pointed out. "You have been looking for cases."

"But cases of things were know of," Sam said. "We've gotten so focused on what we look for, we're missing – "

"The forest for the trees?" Dean suggested, quoting the evil bastard.

"No," Sam said. "I'm talking about the cases that aren't cases."

"You lost me," Dean replied.

"We rely on police, news, angel radio," Sam ticked off. "Dodge's FBI database. But these new forces? They're smarter than they've ever been. Smarter than they were under Azazel, under Crowley – "

Dean interrupted. "You think they're cleaning up their messes? Leaving no witnesses?" 

"Maybe even targeting people who wouldn't be missed. Remember that weird cult case Garth caught like, last year?"

Dean thought hard about that. "Wait, the one with the Leviathans. They ate their followers – "

"Yes. All the news reports that covered the cult said it was a sequestered group. People went on the ranch and never came back. But that's not all that weird. Not our kinda weird anyway. The only reason that it caught our attention was that Garth was out there on vacation and saw something shape-shift."

"So, you're thinking that there are more, uh, shape-shifting phenomenon for us to find?" Cas said. "Metaphorically."

"Yeah," Sam said, "basically."

Dean got on board and said, "Okay, then, project one: figure out who this boy-weapon is and get his ass to safety."

Castiel spoke up, "I believe I already know who Tezcatlipoca was talking about. And I think we need to get to Nebraska, now."

"Nebraska? We left a weapon out in the open in Nebraska?"

"Jesse Turner," Castiel said. "The Cambion."


End file.
